A Pena

10pm

Casa do Rego

I can’t explain why, but today was perhaps one of the very most exhausting days of the trip so far for me. From start to finish, I was just. so. tired. My body and pack felt heavy, my feet and right knee ached, and it just felt like a huge task to walk the almost 15 miles we had planned. Not that walking 15 miles isn’t always a bit of a task... because it IS. But it’s what we do! Getting from point A to point B around here is by way of the heel-toe express. 

The morning was absolutely beautiful, unsurprisingly. We arrived in Sarria, which felt so surreal, because from the very beginning this has been a far-off accomplishment. The place where 40% of those who earn a Compostela will start. The last place you can start to walk far enough to qualify for one. And we certainly noticed the crowd thickening at this point! It’s hard not to feel a little resentful of their clean clothes, fresh muscles, and shoes with tread... but we’re all doing this thing. Every Camino is different. 

We had eaten breakfast around 8am before leaving Pintín, so when we stopped in Sarria for a drink it felt too soon to eat. I would live to regret that decision however, when we later found ourselves in a 10km  stretch without ANY place to eat, and it was 4pm before our next meal. When you’re already exhausted and dehydrated and it’s 90 degrees outside with 1,000% humidity, I don’t recommend erasing food from the equation. The first bar we came upon felt like an oasis in the desert, and the bocadillo, Aquarius, and chips combination was manna from heaven.

During the last 3 or so kilometers of the day, I was listening to a new favorite podcast, “Terribly Funny,” with Steve Basilone. In it, he speaks to comedians about terrible things that have happened in their lives, as a way of giving a voice to the often voiceless struggles we face in life and try to mask in humor and pleasantries. This episode featured his ex-wife, Lauren. They remain best friends, because they’ve known each other since they were 11, and because their marriage ended when Lauren realized she’s gay. Not because they hate each other, but because they can’t love each other that way. That’s completely irrelevant in terms of my reasoning for bringing up the podcast, but it’s fascinating and important when it comes to understanding their dynamic. At the end of every show, Steve asks his guest what advice they might have for people facing similar difficult life circumstances. Pertaining to whatever reason they were chosen for the show. He posed this question to Lauren as well. Lauren is a writer for Orange is the New Black. And she shared that she was going through a difficult time career-wise recently, when she felt a lot of pressure to show up to pitch meetings with these incredible new ideas and material. She talked to her therapist about this and how hard it is to feel like she has to conceal her reality and make it seem as though she has a lot more to contribute, because it feels like her “one shot” to impress them. And this is where her advice comes in. She said her therapist said something that has stuck with her, which she thinks about every single day: 

“You know Lauren... 

there’s only the truth. 

There’s only the truth.

All you can do, is represent your truth.”

Lauren has experienced an immense amount of grief and loss in her life, which was the primary focus of her episode. She went on to say that thinking of this mantra every day has given her the power to say things like, “My truth today is that I can’t get off the couch.” She has learned that “the only truth is the truth.” We need to live OUR truths each and every day, big or small, or else we waste our time and energy. 

I cried as I listened to this revelation (SHOCKER). It’s so simple. So why is it so hard? There is only the truth. It’s all we have. Why can’t we live in our truth and spend less time trying to make it sound better or different than it is? We don’t have the capacity. My post yesterday highlighted a small moment of realizing and living my truth. “Yes, I’m uncomfortable here.” And it was ok. It was accepted. Maybe more experiences like this will encourage me to live out bigger truths. 

I will need to remind myself to live by this wisdom on a daily basis, but I have a feeling it will be worth it. 

Soon after my podcast cry, we reached an amazing milestone. 100 kilometers left. WHHAAATT??? The last 100 kilometers of our 800 kilometer journey. So many feelings. 

And the other good news when it comes to this milestone is that this particular marker lies just across the street from our lovely home for the night, Casa do Rego. My parents stayed here two years ago, and felt immediately welcomed like family. Today was no different. Carol greeted us warmly and showed us to our room, where we showered and headed back down for a drink before dinner. She makes a mean “tinto de verano,” made of red wine and lemon soda. Ohhhhh wow. Served with walnuts from their very own tree. And that was just the prelude to one of our most incredible meals of the trip, homemade vegetable crepes with a cheese sauce and potatoes. Carol’s husband Lorenzo is the cook. I asked if he’d ever made this before, and she replied, “No, it’s special for you.” They know we’re vegetarians, and prepared this masterpiece just for us. Again... like family. 

Their adorable 7-year-old daughter Mireia was there as well, teaching me dance moves and chatting with us and her parents in Spanglish. Carol is from the Philippines and knows probably 5 languages, Mireia knows a few as well because Carol practices English with her and she learns from pilgrims, and Lorenzo is semi-conversational in English but speaks mostly Spanish. These conversations are magical, no matter what language. Interpersonal connection goes so much deeper. 

Our meal was finished with homemade ice cream and a “digestif” after-dinner shot. That’s right, a shot. As if I wasn’t tired enough after this long day and a tinto de verano, I’m surprised my eyes are even open wide enough to type this blog. 

Once again, the Camino never ceases to amaze. What began (and continued through most of the day) as an immense challenge and test of my strength and will, finished feeling as though I was in the living room of close friends or family. If I allow myself to feel the discomfort, really acknowledge it and allow it to move through me, I will get to the other side. It’s certainly not easy. I still need a lot of practice. 

A LOTTTTT of practice. 

But I’ll live try my best to live my truth, minute by minute, and the tides will change. They always do. 

Sometimes for the better, others for the worse. 

But there’s only ever the truth. 

Pintín

6:45pm

Casa Cines

WOW I’m tired today. After all the hills of the last few days, my dogs are barkin big time (do you know what that grandma phrase means? My feet hurt). But Galicia continues to impress me with this incredible scenery!

The day started with some major misty fog, which lasted into the afternoon. And I’m NOT complaining. A reprieve from the hot was fabulous. We had a delicious veggie bocadillo lunch in Triacastela, where we ran into a few Camino friends we’ve been seeing along the way, and set out along yet another gorgeous uphill road. 

After the rain this morning, there were some less than stellar bits of the trail which gave me a few more gray hairs, trying not to fall on my face and willing my dad to stay upright as well. Thankfully we made it out alive but WOWSA. This was also right about the time we had to perform surgery on my right shoe, which has a delightful habit of collecting rocks inside the lining. Not cool. My dad cut a little tiny hole with his pocket knife and we are able to get a few out, but not before they drove me crazy. 

About 5 km from our destination, we happened upon a beautiful little rest oasis in the middle of nowhere, made with great care and generosity. Someone was playing the guitar, and a couple ladies we met yesterday were singing. Another young woman who we met in Grañon (the magical church where I sang a few weeks ago... feels like a year) was there too, and she immediately greeted me with, “You can sing too!”

And... anxiety fest.

I love singing, and in certain scenarios I love singing in front of people. But when I’m exhausted and feeling less than social, being asked to come up with something to sing on the spot feels like a hostage situation. Thankfully I just laughed it off and ignored it, walking away to check out the beautiful painted stones around the property. But from that point forward I was just one big ball of introvert anxiety. If I didn’t want to participate in what they were doing, I could have just said no. That’s always an option. But it’s so awkward! And I hate it. As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m trying to learn to allow myself the space to do what sounds right to me. Nothing ever materialized, but I was immediately closed off after that first interaction and wasted my time trying to keep my distance from the group. When I’m not feeling social interaction, I’m NOT feeling it. It’s hard to snap out of, and I don’t think I really need to. Plus, the place was just not floating my boat (though beautiful) and didn’t look very relaxing to my sleepy eyes dreaming of a clean bed. Sometimes my fear of bed bugs and other creepy crawlers just outweighs my ability to look past a couch that’s clearly been enjoyed by thousands of pilgrims before me... just being honest here. I loved it for its art, but not so much as a hangout. You dig?

My point in sharing this is to say that pretty soon after arriving, I asked my dad, “So, are you ready to head out?” He replied, “I think I could use a couple more minutes of sitting. Are you uncomfortable?”

My initial reaction was of course to say, “Oh, no no.” But then I paused. YES, I’m uncomfortable. Not in a way that makes me feel like I have to run and hide, but I am! I very much am. So I changed my answer. “Actually, yeah. Yeah I am. But I’m ok.” And that was it! What do you know, I expressed a less than stellar feeling and everything was ok. I didn’t have to explain it away. There it sat. We stayed for a couple more minutes and then went on our way. 

This small, seemingly insignificant moment felt BIG to me. My gut response was to say, “Yeah, yeah, totally fine.” But what the heck is the point of that? I didn’t need to leave there immediately, I wasn’t so uncomfortable that it was causing me harm, but yeah it wasn’t my favorite place. And just saying it out loud and not being too timid to share those feelings felt like a small victory. Of course, I’m really never too timid to share these things with my dad. It wasn’t about him. I’m usually too timid to admit them to myself. It’s usually, you’re ok. You’re FINE. Don’t make a big deal out of this, everyone else is ok. 

But today, I was honest. And just that action made me feel better. This little self lesson didn’t even occur to me right away, it came after a couple more hours of walking. It’s amazing the thoughts and realizations you can have when you get hours of uninterrupted thinking time to process these moments. And I know they’ll come back to me when I need them. 

Our room for the night is beautiful and comfortable, and I think we have the whole place to ourselves! I wish I could blog the smell of these small Galician towns to give you an idea, but trust me... you don’t wish I could. STAAANNNKKKYYY. But I still love it. I love those stinky cows and I love these beautiful views.

And folks, we’re in the mileage DOUBLE-DIGITS. We started with 500 miles ahead of us, and now over 400 are behind us. Tomorrow we walk through Sarria, the last town in which pilgrims can start in order to receive their 100km Compostela. It’ll get real crowded up in here, but that should be an exciting, electric way to finish this adventure. 

Finish this adventure.

I can’t believe I’m saying that. 

It feels like a million years, and yet it’s wild to be reaching the finish line. 

Fonfría

9pm

Albergue A Reboleira

We set a new personal record today. But not the kind we like. The PR of the day was arriving to our albergue later than any other day! A little after 6pm. And with a 7:40am start... that’s a long day. 

But it’s ok because HOLY MOLY it was a stunning walk. One of the hardest we’ve had in a while, with the notoriously steep climb up to O Cebreiro. We took a nice long break after the worst of the climb, spending  about an hour in a beautiful albergue bar in La Faba. The whole menu is vegetarian! Excellent coffee, excellent breakfast, excellent atmosphere and staff. 

After our beautiful break, we set off behind two guys and their pack mules. Actual, literal pack mules. 

Never a dull moment. 

The rest of the day was up, and up, and up, and up. Somewhere in that climb we met Lus, from Chile. We chatted with her off and on when we could catch our breath. She lives on a farm in Patagonia and has 30 chickens. Her grandchildren love the baby chicks.

Like Eva the other day, Lus shared her deeply personal Camino story: She was going to walk with her husband. They were going to walk three years ago, but decided to put it off another year. “But then 2 years ago, he passed away. I wanted to do it last year, but I couldn’t. So I said, ok. This year Sergio. This is our year. And here we are.” 

Here WE are, she said. Them. 

Sergio is with her for every step. 

She even persevered after a nasty fall the other day which almost knocked her teeth out, bruised her ribs and cut her legs. Again, such strength. 

Up and up and up we kept climbing (officially passing into Galicia!), until we reached O Cebreiro at last. Such incredible views, and a lovely lunch awaited us.

(we were also passed by people riding horses up the worst of the climb... insert jealousy eye roll here)

One thing I was NOT prepared for is how much climbing we still had to do after O Cebreiro. And in the heat. Ohhhh what a difference the heat makes. But we MADE IT! After the last and worst of the day’s climbs, we came upon some unfortunate pilgrims having to check out of their albergue after already settling in, having discovered bed bugs. NO THANKS! I didn’t want to even be within a one block radius. We high-tailed it out of there and kept on keepin’ on. 

At one point I came across a rather sizeable snake slithering across the road. Not my favorite thing, but I just pretended I could speak parseltongue and willed it away. 

We strolled into our albergue very tired and hungry and READY to be done after our strenuous day, but feel so proud of all we accomplished and the optimism we were able to maintain. 

It’s really the perfect albergue situation, if you ask me. We have our own room and bathroom, but it’s a busy place full of pilgrims with a large communal dinner. We chatted with new friends from the US, Korea, and Spain. Everyone loves and appreciates the “Camino family” you make along the way, and you just never know when someone will make their way into your life. Tonight I finally formally met Hye-Rim, a woman around my age from Korea who I’ve passed and casually chatted with several times, but we’ve never really gotten a chance to talk. Tonight we were seated next to each other at dinner, and she’s lovely. Studying international nutrition. How cool is that?? These community dinners never get old.

Have you ever found yourself in a beautiful place or moment and thought, I can’t believe this has been here all along, existing in a way that makes my heart sing, and the only difference is that now I know about it. Now I know how much I love it. 

How many other places like that are there in the world? How many other incredible sights and sounds and scenes would ignite my soul like this?

I would venture to guess there are many. 

And I can’t wait to discover them. 

Las Herrarias

6:30pm

Casa Polin

It was a beautiful day today. We were walking on the road all day, which is never my favorite, but it was along the most beautiful river the whole way. Absolutely gorgeous. And it made the road worth it.

We came upon several Camino friends we’ve met along the way, Chong being one of them (the one who fixed my dad’s shoe), and he’s always so fun to see. This man appreciates a good nap, and one of the times we came across him he was sleeping on a bench on the side of the road. HA! Bless him for that. 

Another thing I loved about the day was the number of cute little towns we passed through. Village after village, all nestled into the hills along the river. It makes the time pass much more quickly when you have only a couple kilometers until a change of scenery. 

We arrived in the beautiful village of Las Herrarias, our home for the night, around 4:30pm. The last few kilometers were HOT today. We had opted to pull the unprecedented move of an afternoon beer before we were done walking, really risking the afternoon sleepies, and I regret nothing. An ice cold beer in a frosted mug was the perfect way to combat the elements and get us through the last couple kilometers of the day. 

One pretty big bummer is that I’ve worn holes in both thighs of my otherwise amazing shorts (raise your hand if you’ll never have thigh gap 🙋🏻‍♀️ ... you feel me on this). I mean COME ON! I realize they’re getting a lot of wear over here, but these are expensive Brooks running shorts from REI. And I don’t appreciate it. Especially when my $14 Costco “Ladies’ Travel Pants” are holding up like CHAMPS. By the way... get some of these pants. You won’t regret it. Anyway, hopefully I can stitch up the shorts well enough to make it the rest of the way. If not, Kirkland for the win. Yet again.

On the edge  of town we were greeted by the loveliest little tree, adorned with hundreds of slips of paper. It was a “dream tree,” inviting passers by to add their dreams. Yet another example of the beauty which is so valued along this pilgrimage. 

(My addition to the pilgrim’s playlist:

“Orange Sky” by Alexi Murdoch)

Our room is absolutely lovely, with that same rushing river we followed all day babbling outside the window. I look forward to falling asleep to that sound. 

We only have 7 walking days left. 

I just can’t believe it.

Right now it’s just surreal. 

I’ve gotten so used to this life. 

Wake up, get dressed, walk. 

Shower, rest, sleep. 

Repeat. 

There’s a whole lot of meaning and magic with each of those simple steps, but the whole thing is just that.

Simple.

I will be very ready to be home, and very ready to be done walking. But I’m looking forward to the ways this journey will teach me to live more simply and peacefully at home. 

So I’ll be sure to soak up these last moments of simplicity while I can.